Dark Silk
by Adele Starminster
Summary: A serial killer is preying on young girls, the only warning an e-mail. Now the CSI team must team up with Sam, a young computer genius, and her best friend to catch him. Because each murder is larger. And Sam's a target. Done w 6th chapter!
1. One of those days

"Sam, dear, hurry up! I called a cab, and those cabbies are very temperamental, you know," My  
  
grandmother called. I rolled my eyes.  
  
"I know, we rode a cab last night." Actually, the cabbie was nice and I'm sure he undercharged us.  
  
My name's Samantha Cooper Fiegh, and I am thirteen years old. I have short light brown hair and  
  
blue eyes.  
  
My best friend's name is Sherlock Holmes. No, I am not insane. It is a funny coincidence,  
  
actually. He is a detective, well, sort of. He's thirteen too. Actually, he's the reason we're going in  
  
a cab.  
  
My grandmother lives in Las Vegas, and I live in London, England. So she invited Diana, my  
  
sister, and I over for my birthday. But, Diana got mono and couldn't come. So I begged all around for  
  
Holmes to come. And they said yes!  
  
But, Holmes was delayed, (the idiot at the desk got him lost), so he was coming today.  
  
I got to the door first. I opened it and screamed bloody murder.  
  
A dead girl was in the street.  
  
"Gran, call 911. I'll call the airport, tell them to tell Holmes to wait." This was going to be one of those days, wasn't it?  
  
A/N: Okay, quickie explanation. Sam's from America, but she moved last year. Her parents are inventors. Diana's a something that rhymes with witch. Happy? Good. 


	2. Dark Silk

A/N: Yay! Chapter Two!  
  
"Who discovered the body?" Gil Grissom asked.  
  
"Samantha Fiegh, age thirteen. She's from London, visiting her grandmother." Nick said, looking at the report.  
  
"Sir?" A quiet voice asked. It was a girl, about thirteen, with short light brown hair and blue-green eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses.  
  
"This is a crime scene, how did you get here?"  
  
"That's Samantha Fiegh" Nick said.  
  
"My gran needs to get my friend from the airport. She left water if you want it."  
  
"She can go, if that cabs hers, and tell her thanks."  
  
"If you want to know, her names Kate Simmons, she lives right next door, she's thirteen, and she was strangled."  
  
"How do you know?"  
  
"My gran knows her mom, and my best friend and I once solved a murder case. Long story."  
  
"Anything else?" Gil Grissom was rarely a fan of eyewitnesses, but this girl was good.  
  
"No, but when Holmes gets here he can probably get a lot more out of it. But..."  
  
"But what?"  
  
"I can check her e-mails right now if you want."  
  
"Do you know her password?"  
  
"No, but I am very good around computers."  
  
"Well, you can get Catherine Willows, over there, and get her to go with you."  
  
"Got it."  
  
12345678901234567890123456789012345678901234567890123456788890  
  
Ten minutes later, Sam was in Kate's room. She cocked her head. What was that smell?  
  
"Oh, great!" Sam groaned as she saw the keyboard. The whole area was covered in a sticky clear coating.  
  
"Don't touch it," Catherine warned.  
  
"I won't, don't worry," Sam promised. "It's Sprite Remix, Berrylicious."  
  
"How are you so sure?"  
  
"Smell, color, and the bottle," The bottle was partially behind the monitor.  
  
"Do you have a spare pair of gloves?" Sam asked. Catherine nodded and gave it to her. Sam carefully go to AOL and wrote the screen name down on a paper in her pocket.  
  
"I'm going on my laptop."  
  
"Fine. Tell me if you have any luck."  
  
For ten minutes Sam typed in various passwords.  
  
"I've got it!" Sam typed in the screen name, Katiegrlstar89.  
"Check her e-mail for anything odd." Sam grinned evilly.  
  
"I'm checking recently deleted e-mail. Hello!" Sam scanned the e- mail.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"An e-mail from a Deathstar, entitled, Know your Death." Sam sounded shaken.  
  
"Read it out loud."  
  
"It says that if you get the words White Silk, you will die in thirty years, silver silk in twenty, gold silk is ten, ruby silk is five, sapphire is one, emerald is a week, and Dark Silk is twelve hours."  
  
"And Kate got Dark Silk?"  
  
"Yup, and this was deleted sixteen hours ago, well, roughly."  
  
"Coincidence?" Catherine asked.  
  
"There are no such thing as coincidence," Sam said roughly.  
  
"What's wrong?"  
  
"I saw a scrap of black cloth by the body. Maybe..."  
  
"It's from the killer?"  
  
"Exactly." 


	3. Holmes

A/N: Hello again! Thank you reviewers: Mickeysgirl Suzi Bonnie CSISG  
  
Dis: I own Sam and her laptop. And Annie. Is that all? Hmm...  
  
"Mr. Grissom! Did you find any black silk, or any dark cloth at all?" I gasped. I ran down three flights of stairs, for crying out loud! I am NOT nervous that this is another serial killer, not at all! I'm TERRIFIED! I don't want to go through that again. I rub my right arm.  
  
"Who is she?" The woman asking this was looking at a scrap of dark, shiny cloth cut in a lopsided circle.  
  
"Her name's Samantha Fiegh, she discovered the body." It was Mr. Grissom.  
  
"And she just found something odd, and would like to be called Sam," I informed both.  
  
"What you find?"  
  
"Printed out this, it was deleted about sixteen and a half hours ago."  
  
"What?" It was the woman.  
  
"I am very good at computers..." I broke off. "That's odd."  
  
"What?"  
  
"There was a lot of soda spilled on the keyboard there, and the bottle was only half empty. It was a 20 ounce bottle." "Maybe she got more?"  
  
"It was all over the keyboard, and she put the open half empty bottle behind the tower?" I snapped. I have a tiny temper problem. That and I am terrified.  
  
You see, Holmes and I once faced a serial killer. I nearly died, and I saw someone else die. I have a scar on my arm to prove it.  
  
The three people are starting at me. Oops. "Sorry 'bout that, I had a bad experience with a serial killer. He was trying to decapitate me. It didn't work, but I have a nasty scar to prove it."  
  
"Oh." It was Dark-hair.  
  
"That and she's temperamental," I recognized the sarcastic voice behind me.  
  
"Holmes, shut up or I'll tell Elizabeth your middle name," I shot back. It's Francis, by the way. Elizabeth is a girl he has a huge crush on.  
  
"I'll take option A." He said, "Just tell me what happened now."  
  
"Murder. Girl next to my Gran's. Strangled..."  
  
"By someone, a male, over five and a half feet tall, not married, not skinny, with red hair." He finished. Five jaws dropped, Mr. Grissom's, Catherine's, the other two, and a dog, Holmes' mutt, Maggie.  
  
"Okay, we need introductions, I'm Sam, this is Sherlock Holmes, and the mutt is Maggie." I broke in.  
  
"I'm Gil Grissom."  
  
"Catherine Willows."  
  
"Nick Stokes."  
  
"Sara Sidle. How'd you get all that?"  
  
"Simple," I told her, "but I still don't get it after a year. Be nice Holmes."  
  
"The bruises are darker near the top, meaning he was taller, and she's about 5'4. There was no indent from a wedding ring, the bruises were thick, and a bunch of short red hairs were caught in her hand."  
  
"But that doesn't prove it was a man." It was Nick. I groaned.  
  
"Holmes, no demo, please!"  
  
"Yes, demo. Watch." He wrapped a hand around my throat, blocking my windpipe. After five seconds, I kicked him. Hard.  
  
"Miss Sidle, you try." She did it with both hands.  
  
"See?" He asked. I kicked him again.  
  
"His left hand strangled her, because she was facing the attacker and the hair was in her left hand." "Makes sense."  
  
"But who killed her?"  
  
"And will he strike again?" I muttered.  
  
"Probably," Holmes admitted. "Murphy's law."  
  
"Crap, I was looking forward to a peaceful vacation." I groaned.  
  
"Your life is never going to be peaceful. You jinxed yourself."  
  
"Holmes?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Shut up."  
  
"Now why would I do that?" "Maggie's going on your shoe."  
  
"MAGGIE!"  
  
"Does this happen often?" Gil asked. I nodded.  
  
"This is going to be interesting."  
  
"Yup. I'll see if I can find this Deathstar. That will save time." I sat down on Maggie's... stuff.  
  
I hate that dog. 


	4. Fears and Facts

A/N: Hi! Okay, explanitions... I wrote the original chapter so you knew I wasn't dead. This is the funny re-write. I may do a sequel, but I want a vote. One person will be the target of a freakier serial killer then Deathstar. Sara or Greg. Pick please! Thanks SO much for reading this!  
  
Dis- I own Sam. And The Hartshornes. Happy? I'm not.  
  
The next week, Sam was talking to Holmes.  
  
"Holmes, five girls are dead. You have any clue that might help? Even a theory? Please?" She asked. She got a fool proof plan.  
  
"I might get an e-mail..." Holmes jumped guiltily. He WAS responsible for her problem last year.  
  
"That cloth was cut with pruning shears. The last three were hearts."  
  
Sam's eyes went wide. "Holmes..."  
  
"What?"  
  
"What was your description of him?"  
  
"A male, over five and a half feet tall, not married, not skinny, with red hair. Why?" Holmes asked.  
  
"Miss Hartshorne was five seven, red haired, and had a twin brother." Sam was shaking.  
  
"Sam, maybe we should go back to London," I was worried for her. Miss Hartshorne had kidnapped and nearly killed Sam last year. It was all over the news. So was Sam's picture. She was right on all counts. Then a horrible thought struck me.  
  
Sam might be the next target.  
  
"No way. I will not let that (deleted) win. You know he'll follow us back to London. And he might hurt Molly." Her words stung. My little sister was extremely curious, and she would be an obvious target.  
  
"So what do we do?" I asked.  
  
"It's what I'll do," Sam said. She logged on the internet.  
  
My plan was simple. I can just find Miss Hartshorne's birth certificate and trace her brother though her parent's names. Twenty minutes tops.  
  
I grinned as the certificate came out. Richard Devon Hartshorne, age twenty- three.  
  
"This will help." I smiled. Bingo.  
  
Little did I know that I would soon have no reason for smiling. None at all...  
  
A/N Dun dun dun... Like, dislike? Tell me! Oh, by the way, this is almost over. But, I will have a sequel, Dark Intentions.  
  
But...  
  
...only...  
  
...if...  
  
...you...  
  
...REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 


	5. Kiddnapping a Hacker, or the death of a ...

A/N: Yet another chapter of Dark Silk. Note to readers: Chapter Four was redone, read it to understand this. So far this is the first installment of the Darkness Trilogy. The other two are:  
  
Dark Intentions In the Darkness is the Light (this will be kinda funny.)  
  
Two more chapters after this! Almost done.  
  
From the desk of the HGA (Epilogue will help you get this)  
  
I woke up that night at about twenty minutes after two. I heard a noise like footsteps. I whispered "Gran? Holmes? Maggie?" Hearing no response, I assumed it was Maggie.  
  
"Maggie, do NOT go in my room," I said, getting up.  
  
"She won't," said an icy male voice hissed. I froze. The voice had a tint of a British accent.  
  
"Who are you?" I whispered. But I already knew.  
  
"You already know," Richard Hartshorne whispered. I swore.  
  
"Naughty, Naughty," he tsked. I grabbed a tube of lipstick I kept as a silent note-writer. I scrawled on the white night stand-  
  
H.-  
Heartbraker (RDH) got me. Show BC to YKW. IStp. I go, you Maggie. "Something just don't feel right" "Slow dancing in the boulevard"  
  
ZC. The darkness hid my actions. I walked up to the source of the voice as quietly as possible. My right hand shot forward to show two fingers heading for his eyes. He let a hiss of pain escape. A cloth smelling sickly sweet groped for my face. I accidentally breathed in the fumes, falling swiftly into the darkness of sleep. 12345678912345678012345678890123456789017890123456789012456780 (Holmes)  
  
A pain sent white hot fire in my hand. I awoke with a curse. Maggie was biting my hand. Seeing me get up she whined and ran into Sam's room. I puzzled over this, until I remembered a trick of Maggie's.  
  
Maggie ran up to the tall seventh grader. She was whining. When she got his attention, she ran down the street. She stopped at a sign post. He stared at it. Maggie was pawing the sign and growling. There was a red splotch on the metal.  
  
"Blood..." he whispered. "Find Sam!" he ordered. Maggie "scowled" at him and nudged the sign.  
  
I raced into the room. Sam was gone. On the table, a message was written in midnight blue lipstick. Sam's work. I read the note. The code was simple, if you knew it. Initials were capitalized, song quotes were varied. This meant that she had a feeling that she didn't get why, and the guy was taking his time. 1stp, was 1st step, or do ASAP. Z was the first letter of her internet account, Zephyrchild. That meant she had her laptop. The C meant she had a supply of useful items available. Looking around, it seemed like it was her pen, which was glow-in-the-dark. Maggie meant follow.  
  
"Mrs. Werson," I yelled. "We have a problem!"  
  
123456789012790179012345678901456789012345678901567890123467890  
  
Gil Grissom's cell phone rang. He absently answered it.  
  
"I have Samantha. You know, Samantha Fiegh? Agree to give up the case and she will not die. Don't and she will be returned- in pieces.  
  
Do not hang up.  
  
Do not try to trace this call."  
  
"But how can you prove you have her?" he asked.  
  
"Miss Fiegh, you need to talk." The voice called in a sing-song voice.  
  
"I'm bored and sore, and I can't breathe, and did anyone tell you that you look exactly like Charles Manson, except you hair is red? And that casino in the window is delightfully tacky. Is that supposed to be New York City?" A girls voice irritably yelled, "And really, Mango Street? Honestly! That is SO tacky. Why does a guy have bright pink wallpaper in such a big apartment? Why do you have a corner apartment? I have a fear of heights, why are we on the top floor? I hate you, you are the worlds biggest idiot, go to -"a slap was heard, but Sam kept yelling, "in a matchbox in itty- bitty pieces." A louder slap was heard. "You..." she called him something that means female dog.  
  
"I'm a guy," the man said dryly.  
  
"My point exactly," she said, her voice even drier. A punch was heard, and the girl moaned.  
  
"I'll call you back in an hour," the man said "for more details and terms, any parting comments, Miss Fiegh?"  
  
"Did you kill the dog and a quote I want on my headstone," she snorted.  
  
"No, I didn't kill the dog, why?" the man said.  
  
"Then you have Holmes to deal with," she said dryly.  
  
"He'll never catch me!"  
  
"Bets?"  
  
"The quote, Miss Fiegh?"  
  
"Carpe Diem."  
  
The line went dead.  
  
1601456780123456789012345678901234567890123456789234567893456789234567891234 5678902345678914567890  
  
"Okay, we have the kidnapping of Samantha Fiegh, thirteen."  
  
"Wait, the girl who found Kate Simmons?" Catherine asked.  
  
"Yes," Grissom said impatiently.  
  
"Why was she kidnapped?" Sara asked.  
  
"Well, her best friend said she had an idea to the serial killer's identity," Nick said.  
  
"Do we have any leads," Warrick asked. He had just gotten over a bad case of the flu, and was still a little achy.  
  
"She is on the top corner apartment of a building near the New York, New York, it is on Mango Street, and he looks like a red-headed Charles Manson. Her friend said his name is Richard Devon Hartshorne, and he got a call from her saying it is Sheldon Apartments, and she Marked the way with dark blue lipstick." Grissom replied.  
  
"That's a lot of information," Catherine commented.  
  
Grissom's cell phone rang again.  
  
"Hello, me again, I thought you'd like to know what happens to her," the man said. A thud was heard. Sam was screaming as she was beaten, the whole room heard a snap as her arm broke. Suddenly they heard a kick and a screaming of a man.  
  
"Oh my god, I think I killed it." Sam's voice was dry and clear. Suddenly a gunshot rang.  
  
It was clear by the lack of screams.  
  
Sam was dead.  
  
A/N: Cliffie! Sorta. How many of you want to strangle me right now? You'll get it soon. 


	6. Sam, you're dead

A/N: Okay, I know your probably furious at me, but you're gonna love what happens next. It is hilarious. You're going to laugh your head off.  
  
Chapter Six: Sam, you're DEAD!  
  
Greg Sanders was bored. Nothing really interesting was happening that night, and he had left the lab to bug Hodges. He was just returning when he heard the tail end of a song.  
  
"But I chose to dance across the stages of the world, Everyone said I'd never learn, But I still hear your words, Come down here for a minute, Well, come down here for a minute, Sweet girl, Sweet girl"-Fleetwood Mac, Sweet Girl  
  
He realized that it was coming from the lab. When he got there, no one was to be seen. But who did it? Sighing, he shut the CD player off.  
  
Strange things like this had been happening for six months, ever since Sam, the thirteen-year-old computer genius, had died. He wondered, toying with an idea-  
  
"Kind of anti-climatic, I suppose." He jumped at the voice. Spinning around, he saw a grinning girl, about thirteen, with shoulder length light brown hair and mischievous blue-green eyes. He was very pale, she thought.  
  
"Sam, you do realize, your, well, dead, don't you?" he asked.  
  
"Well, duh," she laughed.  
  
"Why are you here? Are you a ghost?"  
  
"No, no really?"  
  
"Then why are you here?"  
  
"Um, well, people up there," she jerked her head up, "Figure you guys might need a little assistance in the form of a ..." she said the last bit very quietly.  
  
"What was that?"  
  
"Guardian Angel," she said.  
  
"Oh." "Yeah..."  
  
"Hey, how are you gonna tell everyone?"  
  
A wicked smile crept on her face. "You'll see..."  
  
A/N: Dark Silk is over! Dark Intentions will come out next week. See ya soon! 


End file.
